


Birthday Cake

by Topaz_Eyes



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Birthday, Fluff, Food, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-05
Updated: 2005-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-03 22:59:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Topaz_Eyes/pseuds/Topaz_Eyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius couldn't understand how baking a ruddy cake could be so hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Cake

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [](http://jazzypom.livejournal.com/profile)[**jazzypom**](http://jazzypom.livejournal.com/) for the wonderful beta! We all know the birthday song--and because it's copyrighted, I disclaim that too.

_Happy birthday to you,  
Happy birthday to you,  
Happy birthday dear Moony--_

 

Sirius couldn't understand how baking a ruddy cake could be so hard.

Baking a cake should have been the easiest thing in the world for a man who had faced down both Death Eaters and Voldemort (not to mention twelve grueling years with the Dementors in Azkaban) in his time. Hell, surviving his current confinement in Twelve Grimmauld Place almost seemed easier than this in retrospect.

Almost.

It was Remus' birthday today, and (wonder of wonders) he was going to be at Grimmauld Place to celebrate it.

Here.

With Sirius.

Sirius couldn't wait.

Though to tell the truth, Sirius hadn't expected Remus home on March tenth. He had (not so) secretly been cynical, expecting Remus would be off to the Outer Hebrides or Romania or somewhere else far away. Indeed, Remus had been away yet again the past few weeks on whatever covert mission Dumbledore had planned for him. Sirius was in fact so convinced that Remus would not be back in time, that when Remus had crawled into bed beside him late last night whispering "I'm home, Padfoot," Sirius, who had actually been asleep (difficult though it had been to get there, he'd managed to drop off just a few minutes ago with the help of Old Ogden's finest), had simply mumbled something incoherent and rolled over. Though this time, dropping off again he faintly registered the real and honest warmth surrounding him, warmth with a soothing heartbeat and loving fingers laced through his own.

Sleepy though Sirius was, as he fell back into slumber it almost felt as if it were his birthday instead, what with Remus folded tightly around him and his lips nuzzling his shoulder. Especially so in the morning, with the late winter sun slowly rising and brightening the cold dreary room, when Sirius woke up to those fingers lightly tracing the curves and bumps of his spine, followed by those soft moist lips dropping wet lazy kisses on the same path lower and lower down his back--

Sirius felt himself getting distracted and he shook his head to clear it. No, there was lots of time for that later, afterwards. Now he had to concentrate on this. Bloody. Cake.

Sirius thought the occasion of Remus' birthday merited something special this year, especially as it was the first birthday they'd been able to be together since before Azkaban. It should be something meaningful, something thoughtful, something that appealed to Remus' sweet tooth. Probably something... chocolate.

A cake would do nicely. A proper, two-layer, fudge-frosted birthday cake. With Wizarding candles of course--

Home-baked. From scratch. The Muggle way, because Remus had once said the most rich and flavourful cakes were made like that.

Maybe that's where things had first started to go wrong.

With Remus being the recipient of said plans (therefore necessarily unable to do his bidding), and Sirius needing supplies, he had to let Molly Weasley in on the secret. She had raised one harried eyebrow when he requested she buy the required ingredients at the market that morning, while Remus was having a well-deserved lie-in.

"Why on earth would you want to bake a cake the Muggle way, Sirius?" she asked in a rather shrill, exasperated voice, folding her arms and eying him as if he were one of the twins caught stuffing Sparkling Crackers down his brother's shorts.

Sirius had shrugged. "It's what Remus wants."

"And I suppose you've asked him?"

"Why ever would I do that Molly, when it's supposed to be a surprise?"

Such a righteous and imperial tone would have cut anyone else down, though not usually Molly Weasley. She had opened her mouth to retort when she saw his grey eyes, that had been so dull these past few weeks, veritably shine with anticipation; she closed her mouth again, feeling guilty about his situation. After all, what harm could come from picking up the supplies if it gave Sirius some pleasure to look forward to?

Well.

At least she would not be here to witness what happened this time.

Sirius had sent Remus out of the house to pick up various sundries after lunch, deliberately giving him a wide assortment of items on the shopping list to keep him out of the house for a least a few hours. Certainly, with the list of books Sirius had for Flourish and Blotts, Remus should be sufficiently delayed, and Sirius would have plenty of time to bake and frost the cake.

The first attempt had been a spectacular failure.

Sirius didn't know what had happened--he was sure he'd followed the Muggle recipe exactly. The recipe he'd nicked from one of Remus' many books in their bedroom, a dull orange tome called 'The Modern Family Cookbook' that dated back to 1955; well-worn to the point of falling apart, the yellowed brittle page tore out cleanly from the binding without his meaning to. Remus shouldn't miss this particular page though; Spellotape would repair the book nicely when he was finished.

He hadn't counted on setting the page on fire when he tried to put his first attempt at a cake in the oven.

Sirius hadn't noticed the page stuck to the bottom of the pan, glued to it by stray batter dripping down the side, until he saw the faint curlicue of smoke ghosting out from the door. By the time he opened it, the inrush of fresh oxygen caused the charred paper to ignite and disintegrate in a flash of yellow-white flame.

He only hoped that the ashes wouldn't settle too deeply into the cake.

Not that he had to worry when, thirty-five minutes later, he pulled it from the oven. It immediately deflated and sank to look (if he were a charitable sort) sort of like a squashed Niffler. Perhaps something that Buckbeak would have trampled on. Repeatedly.

Something that looked a little too pale to be chocolate--_why?_ He wondered, shaking his head with bemusement, threading his fingers through his hair--then he noticed the half-cup of cocoa sitting forlornly on the sideboard.

_Bollocks._

He stood with chin in hand, glaring at that cup mocking him from the cabinet and wondering whether his mother had somehow charmed it out of his reach when he wasn't looking--she may have been only a portrait, but he still didn't put anything past her and her malevolence knew no bounds. He sighed, a long frustrated hiss.

So much for the Muggle method of baking a cake.

Sirius glanced frantically at the Wizarding clock, pulling at his hair now. He'd spent the better part of three hours slaving over this monstrosity. He certainly looked it--dark hair and robes liberally dusted with flour, skin covered with a sheen of sweat from mixing the batter by hand, a large melted butter stain on his sleeve...

Remus was due back almost any minute and there was still no cake.

At least, not one that didn't look like Erumpent-kill.

So really who could blame him for trying to hurry up the baking process a tad for the next one?

Remus would never know, right?

Of course, trying to recreate the recipe from memory, especially considering said recipe had been thoroughly incinerated (and the ashes baked into the cake-from-hell), was quite another matter.

The recipe called for 'soda', but Sirius, starting to crack just a bit under the stress of having no cake to surprise his friend, couldn't remember which soda it was.

So he added baking soda. Several tablespoons just to be safe--

And he added club soda. A cup should suffice.

This time he made sure to remember the cocoa.

He had just poured the batter into the pan and had just tapped his wand to the side of it to start it baking when he heard the always-welcome, though right now very much dreaded, sound of Remus' slightly hoarse voice calling out "Padfoot, I'm back!"

Sirius whirled around, trying to hide the now-gaily bubbling batter and the pan on the table (that was starting to swell alarmingly and seep over the edges of the tin) from Remus' view.

"Ah! Yes, Moony. Shopping went well I trust?"

Remus set the packages down on the sideboard, wondering what those brown flakes were, dusted over the surface. "It was quite puzzling really, that Flourish and Blotts didn't have those books on the list, they were almost like Unplottables--" He fell silent at Sirius' too-innocent leaning against the kitchen table, and his eyes narrowed with sudden suspicion. "What are you getting at, Padfoot?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

Remus shook his head knowingly. "Whenever you get that look, there's a prank afoot. What have you done this time?" He strained to look around Sirius' body, but he had effectively blocked the sight of the uncooked cake seeping over the edges of the tin and migrating to the edge of the table with a small sucking sound.

Then Remus noticed the first cake sitting at the opposite end of the table. "Is that--is that--is that thing a *cake*?" he exclaimed in utter disbelief, staring down at the misshapen lump of pastry.

Sirius looked--well--contrite. "Supposed to be," he sighed. "For your birthday."

Remus peered at it, an unreadable expression on his face. "I hope it tastes better than it looks," he commented wryly, then he grinned in appreciation. "Thanks, you know."

Sirius nodded, relieved. "I thought since that one--well, as you can see it didn't work out so well--" he shrugged. "So I started another one."

"Oh really?" Remus stood beside Sirius and shoved him out of the way to have a look. "Is it still in the oven then?"

"Was just about to put it in," Sirius lied.

Remus nodded, glanced down at the pan and did a double-take. "Is it supposed to bubble like that?" Remus asked skeptically, staring down transfixed at the cheerfully spluttering contents in the cake form.

Sirius gaped at him. _Bubble--?_

Oh dear sweet fucking Merlin--

Sirius slowly backed away. "Remus, out of the way, NOW--!"

Remus' eyes widened with sudden understanding. "Oh no--" he muttered, picking up the now-writhing pan to hurl it into the sink before--

The enchanted batter rose up and seethed ominously at Remus, contracted all the way back into the tin with a rather reassuring deflating sound--and just as he relaxed, it exploded with a thick wet -blop-, covering Remus head to toe in dark brown goop.

Remus stood utterly still for a full minute as the sticky-sweet goo slid down in thick rolling rivulets down his face, oozing through his hair and trickling like molasses down his robes.

Sirius stood equally still for that same endless minute, caught in the eerie vacuum of silence following the explosion, and simply watched Remus drip with batter. He opened his mouth to apologise--and bent over howling with laughter.

If looks could kill, Sirius would have been struck down instantly. "This isn't even remotely funny, Padfoot--"

Sirius had dropped to his knees shaking in uncontrollable fits of mirth. "Let me help clean you up," he grinned evilly, looking up at him through gleaming eyes after another full minute's guffawing. He lunged at him, shimmering into Padfoot in mid-stride.

"No, wait! NO! Down! Down, you daft mutt!" Remus yelled, but too late; Padfoot knocked him to the floor and enthusiastically began to lick the batter off his face and clothing.

"Padfoot! No, stop! STOP! That bloody well tickles!" Remus gasped, but Padfoot doubled his efforts and soon Remus too collapsed in fits of helpless laughter, wriggling under the dog's eager lapping tongue.

After Padfoot had licked up all the batter the great black dog rested on Remus for a minute, panting contentedly; then another shimmer and Sirius now lay on top of him, clutching his shoulders, still roaring with laughter.

"You should have seen your face, Moony!" he wheezed between peals. Remus simply glared at him but Sirius was too far gone to care. "That didn't taste bad at all. Pretty good, actually. I'm a better cook than I thought!"

"If you say so. Though I hope you split a gut. Or at least get a stomachache," Remus muttered darkly.

"Sorry about the cake," Sirius grinned wickedly.

"Somehow I don't think so."

"At least we have the other one--I think it's still edible though I know it doesn't look it--"

"Padfoot, do you really think I'd give a Kneazle's arse over a sodding exploding cake?" Remus leered back. "When it gets us like this?"

Sirius' chuckles died down, though his grey eyes still danced with mirth, and something else too. "Happy Birthday, Moony," Sirius murmured fondly.

Remus rolled them over until he was on top, returning the steady gaze. "Best one yet," he whispered, smiling as he met Sirius' lips with his own.


End file.
